


Enough

by endofthyme



Series: Witcher Works [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, M/M, Mentioned Emhyr var Emreis, POV Sigismund Dijkstra, Sigismund Dijkstra-centric, The Witcher 3 Quest: Reason of State, The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24282337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofthyme/pseuds/endofthyme
Summary: "Don't make me," Geralt says as he steadily draws closer, his blade leveled in Dijkstra's direction.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Sigismund Dijkstra
Series: Witcher Works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046377
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> My very first Witcher fic, hehe. Reason of State quest spoilers incoming!
> 
> This is my apology to Dijkstra for the whole killing him thing (...killing him multiple times, in fact, because my game bugged out repeatedly, lmao). Sorry, Sigi, but like, I couldn't let you murder Roche and Ves and Cobbler Man, and I also couldn't let Radovid live. I'm sure you understand.

The witcher takes the steps up to the stage one-by-one, his steel sword in hand. The other conspirators clash still with Dijkstra's men on the ground below, ten feet and a thousand miles away. Dijkstra can hear the faint creaking of the wooden boards under Geralt's feet over the sounds of shouting and clanging, and he wonders suddenly, absurdly, if this is what being a witcher is like.

"Don't make me," Geralt says as he steadily draws closer, his blade leveled in Dijkstra's direction. His voice is flat, unfeeling, controlled, but his eyes aren't. Dijkstra can see the plea in them, the conflict, but he knows that won't be enough to stay the White Wolf's hand. Not when he's committed.

Dijkstra stands his ground, holding his greataxe in front of him like a shield, ready to use it to get as much distance as possible. He can't quite bring himself to swing with lethal intent, but he needs more _time._ He thinks about his options, the world's options, and… he wavers. He pictures Emhyr var Emreis getting handed the North on a platter, an absolute and infuriating certainty should he stand aside and not do _something_ about it, and then he imagines the same thing again, just with himself in two pieces atop this stage. _Hail, King, for so thou art,_ his mind supplies. _Behold, where stands the usurper's cursèd head. Vakmeth, act five, scene eight._ An apt enough verse for the circumstance he'd trapped himself in, and he didn't even have whispering hags to blame for it. His ship had sailed when Geralt had chosen to stand against him. What little he could have done didn't _matter_ anymore, not when it was dependent on his arm against a trained witcher's. This witcher. A witcher that he…

His shoulders slump. "You're a fucking idiot, Geralt," he says, defeated without a blow.

Geralt's breath catches. He pauses, unmoving, waiting.

"This was the only way to get to a free North, you know that, right?" It comes out more plaintive than Dijkstra intended. He tosses aside his weapon and gestures to his men to stand down. They do, scatteredly, warily backing off from their targets.

Geralt, in front of him, lets out a deep, relieved sigh and closes his eyes. He's still holding his sword in a white-knuckled grip. Dijkstra imagines that if he weren't a witcher, it would be shaking. Instead, it's as still and sure in the air as carved marble.

When the silence has stretched too long, Dijkstra finally says, "Gonna set that thing down, witcher? Or are you still considering?"

Geralt's cat eyes open to fix on him. A smooth motion has the sword sheathed again on his back, and a few rapid strides have him right in Dijkstra's space, before the spy could even think of taking a step back. Then, there's a hand on either side of his head and he has half a second to think, faintly, _he's going to break my neck_ and _at least that'll be quick and painless_ before he feels the warm pressure of a mouth on his.

Dijkstra lets his eyes fall closed and his mouth fall open, and Geralt, ever-enterprising, takes the opportunity that presents to deepen the kiss, pressing his body flush against Dijkstra's front. It's both promising and distracting, but Dijkstra still hears Thaler beginning to swear inventively and some indistinct murmurs starting up between Roche and Ves, over the rush of blood in his ears. And then he can't help it. He's already thinking about how to curb the losses. If he can't stop the treaty from going through this way, maybe he can stop it some other way, with some other gambit. But he already knows it's a lost cause. Where Roche goes, Temeria follows—so as long as he lives, Dijkstra can do little more than delay the inevitable.

"Stop," Geralt says, pulling back a fraction. Dijkstra's eyes blink back open in inquiry. "Stop plotting. It's over. Radovid is dead. That needs to be enough."

Dijkstra's jaw tightens involuntarily, and he takes a moment to work the muscle loose. It was… a fair point. Radovid's death had put all of them in a better position. There were _options_ now that hadn’t been on the table a few hours ago. So… fine. He'd leave Temeria to make its own mistakes. At the very least, paying lip service to their independence would delay Emhyr's next moves a little.

But… enough?

Well.

Dijkstra leans in to catch Geralt's lips once more, reaching up to twine his fingers in the witcher's silver hair.

Perhaps it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> Look... Sometimes all you really need is to get reined in by someone who cares for you but would definitely stab you to death if necessary. I think Dijkstra deserves that in his life.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
